Evidently, though, he found her spot, for her expression changed. Her mouth took on a sullen, hungry look. “Spread your thighs more, Jeannette,” I ordained. Still staring in the opposite direction, to the wall, she let one elegant leg go lax and slip beneath her fathers to the floor so that her foot just touched it and her shoe was arched.
A snuffling through her nostrils then as an excitation in her grew.
Her tummy rippled and her fingers clawed a little at his shoulder blades. I, acting a love-nanny to her, bent upon the flushed pair once more and worked her dress up just beyond her tits that he might suck on them. He did! Once more her back was arched-again her moans! “Do not, do not-no, mustn't!” so she hummed, but only from a habit rather than conviction, so I felt! Her nipples rosy, stiff, he moved his lips up to her face and murmured to her incoherently. His trousers being doffed by then and puddled on the floor beside the couch, his penis beat its urgency against one milky thigh. “No, no-oh, no!” she mewed, though not with very much conviction.
“Wait, Monsieur, raise yourself a little. Jeannette, give me your hand,” I murmured while the bumping pair upon the carpet hissed their pleasure. “Noooo!” she whimpered, but I took it all the same, limp as it was, and guided it down, down, until her fingers touched against his prick. They lay there flaccid, then I smacked her arm, and then she gripped it, causing him to groan! “Still slowly, still slowly, Monsieur!” I urged, “and now, Jeannette, your tongue. Extend your tongue a little-offer it!” Kissing her neck as he then was and she holding upon the great stalk of his penis, Jeannette slowly turned her face upwards to mine, lips lax, eyes pools of wonder (or astonishment?!). “Do it, Jeannette. I shall then put out the light.” “Oh!” she moaned, though as you well know, Caroline, such is a sound beyond description-what you have often called “a little wobbly sound!” A great sigh issued from her lips, but then I saw her fingers move a little up and down his prick. Her cunny almost bubbling as it must have been, how could she for much longer contain herself? A short, pink stamen of her tongue protruded then and sullenly-or was it in a daze!-she slipped her mouth sideways beneath his own and their tongues met. Ah, how a visible quiver seized them both! I watched their little jerks that came in unison, then melted into one. He rolled upon her more, his penis ready, the plumlike bulb upon her belly pressed just where her pubic curls began. “Say yes, say yes, Jeannette!” he pleaded. All then was still for a moment. Gurgles, moans, came upwards from the floor-the slapping of the Minister's testicles beneath Cynthia's derriere. “Say yes or no, Jeannette-it is for you to speak now,” I whispered, for I wished to give her leeway just in this! She had not struggled overmuch, lay placid, waiting to be spermed, I knew, despite her palpitations, small alarms. The prodding monster of his cock now urged her on to this surrender, the crest quivering on her belly in delight. I moved, moved suavely to the light and turned it down until the gaslight all but flickered out and a semi-dusk of mystery was laid upon the room.
My absence for those seconds seemed to help. He had whispered something in her ear. I heard her little mewing cry, “Yes, yes, all right-yes, put it in-ooh!-oh!- PAPA!” Her cunnylips had yielded to his knob at last and, as I fell beside them once again upon my knees, she yielded inch by inch. I peered between them in the soft, dim light and watched his rigid penis delving in, the burrowing master of her fate that grooved its course between her sealskin walls and with a final jolt was full embedded to an “AH!” from her. My dearest, you will understand that the rest was such a melange of rising passion as even I cannot describe-nor even you, perhaps! The bout upon the rug was finished. Those two actors lay inert while Cynthia squeezed upon a dwindling cock. The creme de la creme was there, upon the chaise longue, underneath my eyes. “Jeannette! You are so tight, my pet!” “Am I?” Their voices sounded as if in some far dream. Some words were plain, lewd, passionate, and others lost between their hungering mouths. Her breath hissed out again. I knew her to be coming. Her once-limp leg that had lolled down at the side of the chaise longue was raised (by her!) and coiled his waist like a stockinged serpent of desire. “F… f… fucking you!” he groaned; she gasped out “Yes!” as if they had both each just discovered it! I left them to their play. Can you believe it? But yes, I did. I motioned my other players up. Awed and excited their glances fell upon the enlaced and heaving pair, and then they shuffled out, the Minister still holding up his trousers! I guided them to that small room where pupils sometimes take a little rest between their lessons. “Bid goodnight to him, Cynthia. A perfect pet you've been. I shall return, Monsieur, with your companion in due course to see you out.” “Yes,” he replied, and sounded like a frog. I closed the door and heard a giggle from dear Cynthia, who had become of a sudden much, much more advanced, but that is to the good. She will not fret nor struggle any more! I delayed my return to Georges and Jeannette until I thought them “decent” once again.
Jeannette had fled, however, and Georges was all alone, combing his hair with a certain cockerel pride, though a little bemused to see me once again. I referred to nothing of what had passed, of course. “You are going, Georges? A pleasant evening? Good,” said I. He gave me quite an anxious look. “As to Jeannette…” he began, but had no more to say. “She has benefited much and will sleep like an angel. A little naughtiness here and there-what notice takes the world of it? And besides, the world will never know. I will exercise the girls with no one else-I promise that.” “What a divine creature you are!” He seemed impelled to take a step towards me. I allowed his kiss, though he was for the moment too enfeebled by his bout to have his penis stir again. “You hold in your arms but a sensible woman, Georges. You and the Minister may be counted as the chosen few-the chosen two, in fact! Return together as you will. Only apprise me of your coming.” “Yes, of course!” He almost laughed in his relief. I saw them off and waved their carriage in the dark goodbye.
Had I been far more indiscreet than I had needed to be? Excitement, I confess, had carried me forward- much as you with Alison and the others. Jeannette had taken refuge in my bed (not for the first time) and I found her there, the light out and she all doubled up and quiet.
I undressed and slipped beside her, smoothed her hair. Little by little she snuggled into me and all was restful! Thus my story, then, and the wickedest I have yet had to tell-though I almost put a question mark to that! Have I relived it sufficiently for you to feel yourself a witness at the scene? One never does-or never quite, alas.
We all seek change, delight, fulfillment, and as to your seeking other girls, why not? What a practised Principal you, too, would make! Have you never thought of that? There are, I believe, so-called Governesses in England-some whose advertisements I have noticed in The Times-who take girls in for “discipline,” so called, but I would wager that the young ladies have a very dull time of it for such women enjoy beating bottoms and little else. How utterly boring that must be! You with your expertise, your powers of persuasion, and your skilled devices could do much better than they. And, besides, have you not a ready clientele in your surroundings? Think on it, I implore you.